Dark Wood's Series
by Iggyloid
Summary: After waking up imprisoned inside a castle, Arthur Kirkland is sentenced to a tragic fate; to a life full of strife and struggles. The only thing is, he won't go down without a fight. USUK, SpaMano, PruCan. Based on VOCALOID's 'Dark Wood's Series'.
1. Prologue: Steel Cage Princess

_Prologue: - _

Arthur woke up in a building. He knew that much. The building, he guessed, was constructed with stone. The floor on which he lay was hard and cold. His body was littered with faded scars and fresh, bleeding wounds. The marks and injuries stood out on his abnormally pale skin. His piercing green eyes were strained and tired, his eyelids were heavy. He groaned in pain and he pushed himself up from the filthy ground, hissing each time his wounds were aggrivated.

"So, I see you, too, are awake." A deep, menacing voice echoed around the poorly lit room.

Arthur lifted his head up to meet another person's gaze.

The voice belonged to a man with cold, icy blue eyes. The man wore a smirk; a smirk that screamed sadism and torture. Arthur's instincts screamed for him to run, to escape, to rid himself of the man's unwanted presence.

"Who are you?" Arthur weakly croaked. He didn't sound frightened. His voice reflected his condition - broken. He was quiet. He couldn't control the volume of his voice.

The man, who stood towering over the emerald-eyed man, chuckled. He scratched his hairy chin whilst tossing a curly blonde lock of hair over his shoulder.

"You, _mon petit lapin_, do not deserve to know my name." The man laughed harder as he watched Arthur's over-sized eyebrows knit together in confusion.

_"L-Lapin?" _Arthur questioned, unable to recognise the word as English, the language he was taught as a child. Fear began to rise deep inside of him as the man kneeled down to his level.

"Rabbit." Smirked the bearded man. "My little rabbit."

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**VOCALOID**_**, neither do I own **_**Hetalia: Axis Powers**_** or anything related to them.**


	2. Steel Cage Torture

_Steel Cage Torture_

Arthur's acidic green eyes scanned his surroundings. The foreign tongued man in front of him cackled and Arthur shuddered.

"If you won't tell me who you are," Arthur began, "will you at least tell me where I am?"

The man's deranged laughter echoed and his twisted smirk grew larger.

"You are the Castle of the Dark Woods. You shall not leave this building - this is your punishment. You have violated the laws of the Dark Woods, and because of that you have been sentanced to life imprisonment."

Arthur lifted a weak hand to his aching forehead and stammered a few words of confusion and disbelief.

The wavy-haired man chuckled and reached a gloved hand into one of his cape's pockets.

"Silence!" He spat, the ghost of a smirk still gracing his face.

Suddenly, the man pulled a small but sharp dagger out of his pocket. Arthur squeaked in fear and shuffled to his feet. His ankles, however seared with pain and he found himself unable to support his own weight. He fell backwards whilst trying to shield his face with his arms. The blade-wielding man fell into fits of chuckles and cackles. He quickly stepped forwards and slashed the other man with all of the speed and the accuracy of an experianced swordsman. Arthur screamed; his lungs felt as if they were being squeezed and deprived of oxygen and his throat ached. His head pounded furiously, a constant thump maintained itself inside of his skull and his torso brought him agony with each new gash the sadistic brute inflicted upon him.

His shouts and shrieks died down as the other's assualt slowed. He found himself unable to stop the hot, angry tears that streaked down his cheeks. They removed some of the grime and filth that clung to him. He found himself laying on the cold flooring of the room; it scratched his back every time he moved. He turned his head to the right and found himself staring at his own blood - it seeped out of his body and stuck to the floor.

"If you are to be imprisoned here for life," Arthur's attacker began, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt if we were to acquaintance ourselves with one another. Although, I already know everything about you."

Arthur's sharp eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed.

"My name if Francis Bonnefoy, and I am the ruling King of the Dark Woods. I claimed the title of King after murdering the old Queen. Her name was Meiko." A fond smile washed over his face and his cold eyes softened. "She truely was an amaxing Queen, but alas, it was not meant to be."

Arthur's heavy, laboured breathing slowed slightly. His body ached and the pain was unbearable - he still refused to let go of what dignity he had left.

"The ruler of the Dark Woods, however, is never completely in control. The people of the Dark Woods are rebelling and have been doing so for the last century. This castle is not only the residence of the ruler of the Dark Woods, but it is also used as a prison. You, as a member of the Dark Wood's public, grew too strong and out of fear, we, the Dark Wood's ruling government, have decided to imprison you here. To stop you from being a threat."

Francis dug the steel heel of his heavy boot into Arthur's side and the man cried out in pain once more.

"Don't worry. You're not the only prisoner here. So relax."

The King pulled the heel out of Arthur's bloodied side before swinging his foot into the man's stomach. Arthur let out a shrill yell and coughed up more blood.

"Enjoy the stay, _princess."_

**A/N: Once again, I own nothing. I hope you enjoy this series. Please review! Reviews are love!**


	3. Steel Cage Confinement

_Steel Cage Conefinement_

"Let me go." Arthur demanded. He had been moved around the castle several times. No matter how hard the King beat him, he would always wake up after lying on the blood-stained ground unconcious. He wouldn't back down. He was, however, strained. The tortures he endured often left him cursing his non-existent luck. He started talking to himself too.

"Let me go! Let me go!" He chanted. The King was no where to be seen, in another room of the castle, but that did not matter. Arthur yelled and shouted. His throat felt dry and rough and his voice was cracking. Despite this, he still continued to demand his freedom.

After a month of imprisonment, the King broke. He'd had enough. Arthur never begged; his shattered dignity held him back. He never spoke civilly to his captor. He always spat his words out of his mouth. He refused to make eye contact with the taller man.

The King's tortures brought Arthur nothing but pain although they became somewhat ineffective as time wore on.

"Let me go! Let me go, you insolent, obnoxious, good for nothing-" Arthur yelled. His insults, however, were silenced by the sound of metal smashing against stone. The King had entered the spacious room. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were curved into a frown; his wavy blonde hair was messy and out of place. It framed his face. He looked as tired as he felt. He was exhausted. His prisoner's continuous protests left him aggrivated. He spent many nights without sleep. He wielded a faucet-like pipe.

He didn't speak a word. He simply advanced on Arthur. He had previously chained his prisoner to the ground. He swung the pipe at Arthur and all was well for the King. The emerald eyed man fell to the ground with a thud, muttering only a single word as he slipped into unconciousness.

"Alfred..."


	4. Wide Knowledge Of The Late, Madness

_Wide Knowledge Of The Late, Madness_

The first thing that Arthur realised was that he realised nothing. His brain had seemingly failed on him and he was more than confused - not that he minded though - in reality, he had no idea what was going on.

He didn't know where he was.

He didn't know how he got there.

He didn't know why the walls surrounding him were so white either. They were completely white - completely, except for the odd specks of crimson that tarnished their beauty. They were fascinating for some reason. They were awfully soft, too. It was almost like they weren't walls at all!

Arthur was torn. He found himself smiling, grinning, yet he had no idea why. What was there to smile about?

What wasn't there to smile about?

He really didn't know, nor did he care. Did he even realise?

He thoughts were contradicting themselves and he couldn't gain control of them. The were random and disconnected; the swirled around in his mind and spun out of line.

Then he noticed.

The door.

_The door. _

It matched the walls perfectly! It was white and pure. Only, the door was different. _Very different_.

It was not stained with flecks of impurity. It was spotlessly clean, free from the ruby-red marks that coated the walls around him.

The door seemed to have some kind of power that pulled Arthur towards it. It _called _out to him, _reached _for him, and he reached to it.

He crawled towards it before standing on his bruised knees to examine it.

It was made out of wood. Fine, polished wood, and glass.

_Stained _glass, _marked _glass!

Arthur glared at the numbers tainting the glass - '01', they read - the numbers easily took over the majority of the glass pane and Arthur hated it.

He hated it so much, he hated it with a burning, raging passion.

Though he had no idea why.


	5. Wide Knowledge Of The Late, Impurities

The door was _marked. _It was _imperfect _and _tainted _and _ugly _and _ruined! _Spoilt by two large numbers and Arthur's mind was sent reeling. He head began to spin and spin and spin and he didn't know how to stop it, he didn't know what was going on, everything felt so _strange _and _distorted, _yet so _safe _and _abnormally ordinary. _

Arthur stared at the door. He scowled at it and glared and focused all of his energy on conveying his pure hatred. He couldn't stand it! Suddenly, a shadow stood behind the other side of the door, and was opened with a little _click_. The blond's head perked up slightly and his eyes widened.

"Hello." A man with a thick scarf smilled. His voice was heavily accented, but Arthur's mind was unable to process it. "You are to come with me, da?"

Arthur just gazed up at him curiously, with sparkling eyes. His lips twitched at the corner and he tried to smile. It was only when the man moved towards him that Arthur noticed the little ruby-coloured speckles that decorated the long scarf. The man hauled him up to his feet by his arm and proceeded to drag him out of the room.

"Where are we going?" Arthur found his voice. It sounded strange and foreign and wrong in so many different ways, but he didn't mind. He quite liked the sound and he laughed. "Where?"

"Ah," the man smirked and glaced at Arthur, at his torso - at his shirt - his white, long shirt that covered his knees. Was it a shirt? Arthur wasn't sure. It was white and pure and beautiful, all except for the figures it displayed on the front and on the shoulders. Arthur scowled; it was hardly white at all. Now, it was _red, _it wasn't pure and beautiful! "We are going somewhere, very, very important, da, One?"

One.

_One._

_One! _

"I'm One." Arthur smiled, and the man beside him nodded with a sweet smile.

"Da. Yes, you are, my friend. You're One."

Arthur's mind went blank - even his disconnected thoughts mutilated themselves further - as he was tugged down a white, white corridor. He didn't even take note of the colour of the walls. He didn't even glare or scowl or even spare a second glance to the little dots and clumps of crimson, of _red,_ that could occasionally be seen, and as the patches of scarlet widened and became more frequent, Arthur's crazed smile fell from his dry, cracked lips.

"I'm One."


	6. Wide Knowledge Od The Late, Insanity

The was red. So much red, so much! Now, nothing was white. Nothing was pure. Not in this room. Or was white impure now? Arthur didn't understand. There was this _feeling. _This feeling of something. Something different, but Arthur couldn't tell whether it was nice or not. Was it good? Was it bad? His head wasn't telling him; lying to him, perhaps. The crimson specks and dots that littered the corridor were nothing compared to this. The room was red, red was the room, everything was red, red was everything!

Arthur was making noises. Loud, harsh noises and they were torn from his throat. He didn't speak, but his mouth still opened and his head was still thrown back by the feeling that he knew was there, he just couldn't determine it. Slowly, the man with the scarf came back into vision and Arthur pulled at different parts of his body - his arms, his wrists, his legs and his ankles, they were all stuck and trapped and unmoving. Something was coming back to him, slowly, rejoining him, and he welcomed it.

His emerald eyes shot open as wide as they could and he was hit with a force he couldn't understand, but that didn't matter. His thoughts, his senses, his sanity - they were all coming back to him in waves! In floods! He could feel again, he could touch, but still the red remained and still all he could see was crimson. The scarfed man had left - he left without a word. Arthur was still trapped, and now, he felt it too.

He made the same odd noises again as he did earlier, but this time he identified them as screams. Screams of complete and utter terror, and of _pain. _That's what the feeling was. Pain.

Red surrounded him and now, from what he could see and what he could feel, red covered him. Red covered him, he covered red; he _was _red, until red faded, and red then became black.


End file.
